Humbled by Stone: My First Steps into York Minster

#hellohalloween Walking into York Minster, I felt like a whisper inside a vast symphony. The scale was staggering—pillars rising like ancient trees, ceilings soaring four or five storeys high, and light cascading through stained glass like divine breath. I was small, almost weightless, in the presence of such grandeur. Each room—whether the main nave, a quiet chapel, or a side aisle—held its own atmosphere. Some invited prayer, others contemplation, and all were wrapped in architectural grace. The stone didn’t just support the building—it carried centuries of belief, artistry, and silence. It wasn’t just a cathedral. It was a world within walls. A place where space itself felt sacred, and where my footsteps echoed not just in sound, but in feeling. I didn’t just visit York Minster—I was enveloped by it. And in that moment, I understood what it meant to be humbled by beauty.